Moth-Eaten Lies
by Lyssa Terald
Summary: Hawke tries being more than friends with Fenris without falling in love. Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever shall own, the DA universe in any form and I make no money off this.
1. Chapter 1

It started with a question and a bottle of Aggressio wine.

They were sitting before his fire place enjoying the warmth of the orange, dancing flames and the conversation of a valued friend. The bottle was held suspended, not touching his lips and seemingly forgotten, as he regarded her with a slight curving of his lips and a raised eyebrow. "Really?" he asked.

"Really," Hawke confirmed with a rising blush.

Fenris took a sip and passed the bottle back to her, still considering what she had told him. She accepted it and took a deep swig, while warily regarding him. Holding the bottle, and rolling it between her palms, she said, "It was my seventeenth birthday."

"And you decided that stripping down to your smalls, dancing with a chicken, and passing out in the middle of the _Imperial Highway_ was the best way to christen your first day of being an adult?" he asked, taking the wine back from her.

Her flush deepened as she exclaimed, "I was drunk and I wasn't the only person to wake up naked and in the highway! There were at least six others there with me."

Fenris chuckled and leaned forward to lean his elbow on his knee as he asked, "I suppose, then, that all six of you danced with the chickens, howled at the moon, and painted the inn red together?"

Hawke smiled at that and accepted the bottle back. "Actually, no. Before any dancing took place, my friends managed to convince me to profess my '_Maker forbidden passion_' for Chanter Devons to him and ask if he would join me for a romp in the haystack." She smirked at the memory. "He was absolutely horrified and we fled before he could answer, to continue on and dance with chickens."

He shook his head, his lips curving slightly in amusement. "I can hardly see how a 'romp in the haystack' with you would horrify anyone," he said and she smiled as she took another sip.

When she handed the bottle over their fingers brushed. "Oh, anyone?" she asked, warmth flooding her stomach.

"Perhaps," he returned with a growing smirk.

Hawke leaned forward until her breath feathered across his lips and hesitated, studying his intense green eyes. He simply watched her and waited, though his heartbeat had picked up a pace. The contact was simple, the merest touch of her lips to his, before she pulled back, once again flushing. Fenris set the Aggressio aside and reached a clawed hand across the space between them to cup her cheek and draw her back, laying a soft kiss on her lips.

Hawke sighed at the feel of Fenris' mouth on hers, warm and insistent without being rough. As the kiss deepened, lips and tongues teasing, they moved closer until their bodies were pressed together, separated only by cloth and armor. Their legs curled to the side and they leaned into each other, providing a counter balance to the other. Hands found purchase against rough fabric and slipped beneath to tease and explore, wander and caress. Wherever she touched bare skin, the lyrium of his markings lit beneath her fingers.

The tie to her robe was tugged free and the first clasps of his armor came undone. Their breathing picked up as the kiss broke and his lips drifted down to trail a path of along the curve of her neck. Heat began to curl in her stomach and she gasped when he slid the shoulder of her robe down her arm and kissed the skin of her shoulder that her under-armor did not cover.

_ Snick!_

They barely noticed the noise, lost in in the feel of each other as they were. Her hand slid into his silver hair and held his head against her neck as he began to work loose the leather ties of her armor, his pace neither hesitant nor rushed as he slid deft fingers in to cup her breast through her smalls and run a thumb over her peaked nipple. She bit back a moan when he switched his hand _just_ _so_ and…

"Well, I came here looking for Broody to inform him of a new job, but I can see I'm interrupting something. Shall I return at a later time?" Varric asked with a smirk and they startled apart, faces flushed and breaths still coming in strangled gulps.

"Ah…no…no, that won't be necessary…I was…uh…just leaving," Hawke muttered, pulling her robe back over her shoulder and making to stand.

"You sure? You're one of the people I needed to track down, anyways, Hawke," Varric asked, inspecting Bianca for non-existent scratches. She stopped and looked at him. "I could always go track down the other people needed for this job first and come back later…"

"Yes, dwarf, we're sure," Fenris returned, snapping the clasps to his armor closed once more. "What is this job you speak of?"

Varric looked up from Bianca and his smirk widened. "Oh, you know, just the usual: Bandits raiding the coast, kidnapping nobleman's daughters, pet dragons, traps, illegal smuggling, life and death situations."

Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Another nobleman needs us to do his dirty work, then?" she asked.

"Of course. We're leaving in three hours," Varric said brightly. With a sly smile, he added, "Use the time wisely," before slipping back out the door and closing it with another _snick!_

They waited exactly ten heartbeats before they glanced at each other and burst into laughter. "Varric and Isabela are the worst gossipers. Ten silvers says the entire group will know before we even depart," she said, parting her robes so she could deftly straighten her armor again.

"Twenty says they know by the time we arrive," Fenris countered.

"You're on," she smirked.

Sure enough, when they arrived at the Hanged Man to meet up with the rest of their party, Varric and Isabela had their heads bent together and were fervently whispering about something. Upon seeing Hawke and Fenris arrive, Isabela's face fell and coin immediately swapped hands. Anders, for his part, looked intent on ignoring the both of them while Merrill looked thoroughly confused.

Hawke glanced at him, a thoroughly chagrined look on her face while she could saw the faintest trace of a smirk playing about his lips. Before they could say anything, Isabela sighed dramatically. "Two wonderful hours the two of you could have spent together all sweaty and naked and you have to go and show up," she said with a sad shake of the head. "You just had to go and ruin my perfect little daydream."

"Isabela!" Hawke exclaimed, blushing bright red.

"Oh, so there is something going on," she said, her expression turning to one of wicked delight. Hawke decided to close her mouth right then and there and ignore the pirate. Fenris, for his part, seemed to be unaffected by Isabela's banter.

"Now, now, Rivaini," Varric said with mock chiding. "I'm sure regardless of whatever various states of undress they find themselves in, its none of our business."

"Is there anyone else that we are waiting for or is this everyone?" Hawke managed to grit out before they could progress any further with that line of conversation.

Anders pounced gratefully on the distraction and answered, "This should be everyone."

Hawke looked around their little group again and raised an eyebrow. "Tell me we aren't stealing anything," she told Varric.

"We aren't stealing anything." He grinned and they both knew it was a lie.

The corner of her mouth twitched up. "Forget I said anything."

Sometimes, the best way to blend in was to be known. Three mages, two rogues, and a warrior moved through the night of Kirkwall with relative ease. They were known well enough by the city that no one paid them much mind as they slipped out a side entrance and simply vanished and if passerby were questioned later, they would be able to honestly answer that they had no idea which direction the little croup had taken.

The job itself was simple and straight forward. They had been hired by a child mage's family to steal the boy back from the slavers that had taken him captive on the Wounded Coast. Isabela located the trail of the slavers and she and Varric took care of any traps that they came across while Fenris and Hawke dispatched any guards that had been set to keep watch and left Anders and Merrill to look after their defense and health for the duration of the fights. It would have been a simple enough matter to slip through the shadows to retrieve the boy, but as always happened with their little group a fight ensued and the slavers wound up dead.

The boy was well enough when they found him tied in one of the more secluded caves and they dispatched the guards that had been set to look after him except for the fact that he was a thrall of the blood mage present. She took the longest to kill as she kept hiding behind her captive, but with five people intent upon her death she hardly stood a chance as they gave Isabela an opening to use stealth and slit her throat from behind. With the fight over and valuables thoroughly scavenged from the corpses, courtesy of Isabela, they were free to move away from the scene of the original battle and tend to their wounds as well as wait for the last of the blood magic to wear off.

They found relative safety in the form of another cave where the Wounded Coast and Sundermount met. There was a small stream of fresh water and woods to hunt from. Once they were sure that the cave was giant spider and other sources of annoyances free, Hawke settled the boy and wrapped him in one of the thicker coats that they had managed to scavenge for their impromptu camping trip.

With the boy settled and no longer attempting to carry out the blood mage's final order to kill them, Hawke hovered over him, released the bonds she had used to secure him, and muttered a few spells to take a closer look at the damage that had been done. The boy stared at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes and sat utterly still while her fingers ghosted over his cheek, tracing one of the blood tendrils that held his magic and will fast. It was a messy kind of spell that she had only ever seen once before and that had ended with rather horrifically.

On the other side of the cave, Anders was tending to a stab wound that Isabela had been unaware of until he started looking after her while Varric tried to convince Merrill and Fenris that a game of Wicked Grace was in order. Fenris twitched away from so much magic use within such a small space with the muttered excuse of finding firewood.

Hawke glanced at him as he stalked past her, muttering about mages and magic. Then, she looked over at Varric and smiled her most charming smile. Varric eyed her with suspicion. "Would you be so kind as to go with him and make sure no one tries to attack us in the case that we've accidentally discovered another nest of slavers?" she asked sweetly.

Fenris paused at the mouth of the cave and glared at her. "I am fully capable of taking care of myself," he not quite snarled before stalking off and leaving a flustered Hawke to try and recast the spell that had snapped beneath her fingers in her moment of distraction.

Varric sighed and stood up, slinging Bianca over his shoulder as he did so. "And here I thought this was going to be the perfect moment to put the wax to Bianca," he said, throwing a grin at Isabela who returned it.

Merrill looked between them, momentarily frowning until Hawke called her over to take a look at the magic snaking its way around the boy. Kneeling beside the humans, she cast several spells in rapid succession. "Oh, ooohhhh," she said. "This is bad. Very bad."

"What? What is it?" Hawke asked. "I know that it's a spell that binds his magic and his will, but what else does it do?"

"She made a very nasty deal with a pride demon," Merrill murmured. "Her hold over him has faded, but the demon's influence remains even though he can't take over without the aid of another mage."

From across the cave, Isabela sighed. "Don't tell me we rescued an abomination. Does this mean that we'll have to fight another demon tonight?" she asked, flexing her newly bandaged arm and flashing Anders a flirtatious smile.

Anders frowned and got to his feet so that he could hover behind the other two mages. "He can't be possessed, otherwise the demon would have already made itself known. I've never heard of another mage making a deal with a demon on behalf of another mage. Is it possible that the deal was struck inaccurately and that it won't hold once the blood magic fades entirely?"

Merrill was shaking her head before he even finished speaking. "Watch," she said and muttered something in Elhven before dark, red, twisting spiderwebs became visible over the boy's entire body. There were two, interconnected webs that seemed to be feeding off of each other with one growing fainter the longer they stayed connected. Hawke touched the thread she had been tracing earlier and frowned as Merrill continued, "The brighter web is the demon trying to gain control and the weaker web is the blood mage's magic fading. When her magic fades the boy will wake up, but the demon's hold will remain. He won't necessarily be possessed, but it is likely that the demon will be able to influence him."

Hawke's hand lit with magic and, before they could stop her, she touched one of the brighter strands twining around the boy's neck. The strand flared angrily and clashed with her magic for a moment before its glow receded, its strength bleeding into the air around it. She looked at them and grinned. "It's just like what happened with Keeran. All we have to do is break the magic before the demon gets in too deep." Her eyes flashed to Anders and her smile widened a bit. "And you don't even have to start glowing this time around to save anyone."

Anders chuckled weakly. "Yes. Being able to save someone without provoking Justice is a nice change."

Merrill seemed torn when it came to severing the connection with the demon. She wanted to save the boy, of course, but she also had questions that she felt could only be answered by one of the Fade kind. "Oh, but-" she began but Hawke fixed her with a Look and the words died before they were fully formed.

"If you aren't going to help us then you can go stand guard with Isabela," she said with a pointed look at the pirate. "This is going to take us awhile so we'll need to make sure that no one tries to interrupt us in the middle."

"Come on, Kitten," Isabela said before Merrill could say anything else. "I've been wanting to teach you that new version of Wicked Grace for a while anyways. Let's leave these two to do all the droll work while we have a little _fun_." One eyebrow raised over the other and she grinned in a wolfish manner that, after a moment, had Merrill blushing.

The little blood mage rose to her feet, stuttering, and allowed Isabela to draw her to the mouth of the cave where she promptly produced a deck of cards she had borrowed from Varric. Anders knelt beside Hawke in Merrill's place and frowned thoughtfully down at the boy. "You know, if we return him to his parents in Kirkwall, the Templars are likely to find him and send him back to the Circle."

"I know," Hawke answered with a sigh. "But let's worry about one thing at a time and break the demon's hold on him first, shall we?" Without waiting for an answer, she showed him what she had done and, together, they set to breaking the web of blood magic that held the boy.

When Varric and Fenris returned an hour later with an armful of wood each, Hawke and Anders were still working side-by-side to unravel the web while Merrill and Isabela continued with their game. Isabela looked up from her cards and fixed Fenris with a curious look when his footsteps stalled at the sight of the two mages working in concert with their magic. "Blood magic still has a good grip on the boy. They're breaking it apart one piece at a time," she explained when distaste settled over his features.

Merrill craned her neck to look at the over her shoulder and caught Varric's eye. The dwarf simply shrugged and moved past them so that he could deposit his firewood within the cave and observe the mages as they worked. "Blondie isn't glowing," he observed to no one in particular. Glancing at Isabela, he asked, "How long they been working on him?"

She looked back to her cards and shrugged. "About an hour. They started not long after you two left for wood," she answered. Glancing at Merrill's bet, she grinned and doubled the bluff. "Kitten, you really need to work on not blushing when you try and best me at my game." Merrill simply giggled at that and displayed her hand.

Fenris stood in the mouth of the cave for an uncertain moment before he walked in and deposited his armload next to Varric's. He eyed the pile and then looked back out at the dying sun that touched the trees surrounding their little campsite. "We will…need food for…later," he said and walked back out to find something to hunt.

"He really doesn't like magic," Merrill observed before returning to shuffling the cards. None of them noticed the way that Hawke's wrist twitched a little in response to the comment.

Varric and Isabela exchanged glances to which the former pirate rolled her eyes and sighed as though put upon. "I suppose _someone_ has to go with him and make sure that gorgeous body doesn't get scratched up by anything with less than ten digits," she said, glancing at Hawke and finding only disappointment when the other woman only continued to work.

Merrill looked flustered for a moment. "Oh, but this game was so much fun."

The dwarf simply flashed her a grin and said, "Don't worry, Daisy, I'll teach you how to tell when Rivani here is cheating at this new Wicked Grace after you help me start the fire." Merrill took to the task a little too enthusiastically as Isabela sauntered out after Fenris and by the time the fire was arranged and crackling merrily away, Varric was nursing three burn marks and had nearly lost his eyebrows twice. Still, his spirits remained unhampered when he began to teach Merrill a few of the tricks he and Isabela used for the game.

Two hours and night had fallen by the time Anders finally slumped over, exhausted. The child mage was conscious and aware when he withdrew, but still not entirely free of the blood magic. Hawke's hands kept moving through the spell and working and with it she kept up a steady stream of dialogue that kept the boy from panicking as she asked him yes or no questions about Kirkwall and ever so carefully reassured him that they were not the slavers and that she was _not_ trying to strengthen the blood ties to the demon. She very carefully explained to him what she was doing and how she was doing it and bit-by-bit the fear began to lessen in the boy's eyes.

When Fenris and Isabela returned with several packages of fresh, bloody meat, the boy's eyes widened and a wail of terror escaped him at the sight of the blood. Her companions watched in rising horror as the last string she was working on suddenly tightened around the boy, flared a brilliant shade of crimson and issued an angry hiss that was somewhere between a crushed snake and a wet cat. The web bonds that she had been working so diligently on started to strengthen again as power bled over from the remaining strand.

Hawke began to work faster, a smile on her lips and comforting words that barely made sense pouring forth to reassure the boy. Sweat gathered on her brow once more and slithered down once dried paths. The hiss turned to a cackle even as the boy's scream died beneath Hawke's endless litany. Her companions hovered back uncertainly with their weapons clutched in their hands, but she never showed any sign of letting up on her assault against the blood magic and, after a while, the cackle turned to a wail before the final thread snapped entirely and Hawke sat back on her heels and smiled triumphantly at the boy.

The boy trembled and then threw himself into Hawke's arms. She "oomphed" with the impact but allowed the force to propel her back into a sitting position. She sighed in relief and stroked the boy's head while she continued to talk to him. Anders was the first to approach her, lay his staff to the side, and raise hands that were already lit with healing magic to her shoulders. Merrill was the next to approach them and when she knelt beside them she inspected the boy and the fading traces of blood magic.

"All good," Merrill and Anders announced together. Merrill pressed a hand over her mouth and giggled while Anders simply smiled a small smile and rose to his feet.

"It's not completely gone, but the blood magic is fading and he should be back to normal in a few days. There are no traces of the demon, either, so I think we can sleep safely tonight," Merrill said with a satisfied smile.

She nodded, but said, "Still, it'll be better if we set up a two person watch for the rest of the night just in case."

"Hawke," Anders said and she tilted her head back to look at him. "You'll be fine. There are no residual side effects other than mana depletion. Rest and food will take care of that before the night is out."

A playful smile lit her eyes as she said, "Yes, Ser Doctor. Whatever Ser Doctor commands."

His face lit a brilliant shade of red before he took his staff in hand and retreated to the other side of the cave and sat in front of the fire with his back to her. She smiled and shook her head before glancing to their other four companions. Isabela was helping Varric pick up the scattered while Merrill took up a seat next to Anders and attempted to draw him into a conversation he steadfastly refused to take part in.

Fenris had his back to her while he picked up the hastily discarded packages of deer meat and carefully pulled the bits of dirt and assorted filth off of them and tried to salvage what he could, but she could read the lines of tension in his body like she could her own and she sighed. It was going to be a very long night, indeed.

Somehow, Isabela and Varric managed to pry the boy off of her and allowed her to curl up beside the fire for a few hours of sleep. Merrill became quickly enamored with him and took to his care with all the awkward tenderness that only she was capable of. Isabela and Varric were content to sit back and watch the scene play out as she tried to figure out what he wanted to eat even as he refused to speak a word to anyone. While they watched, they also put their heads together and eyed the trio by the fire.

Anders superstitiously cast a light sleeping spell on Hawke to make sure that she slept until someone woke her and eyed Fenris distastefully while the elf sat on her other side and glared right back at him. They had long since come to the silent agreement that Hawke's well-being came first and that their dislike for each other could flare to life when she was awake. That did not, however, mean that they took kindly to the presence of the other or even that they couldn't communicate, in their own silent ways, their mutual dislike.

The staring contest continued until Isabela finally broke away from Varric and stood, stretching in a way that thrust her chest forward and sighing when neither male so much as batted an eye in her direction. "Well, come on, healer boy. You and I have first shaft…I mean, shift," she said, grinning when the tips of Ander's ears turned red.

"What about you and Varric or you and Merrill?" he asked, never taking his eyes off Fenris.

"Daisy is asleep, Blondie, and there are three mages and three non-mages," Varric informed him as he made himself a make-shift bed. "The pairings will be better this way. So, unless you really want to wake Hawke or Daisy and the boy currently wrapped around her, you'll have to take first watch with Rivani here."

Anders shifted his gaze to Hawke and, for an instant, his features softened at the sight of her sleeping peacefully. He reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear only to have his fingers swatted away by a clawed hand. Said claws remained poised protectively between him and Hawke. Anders swatted Fenris' hand away in return, but Isabela laughed before either could do more than glare.

"Well, come on, healer boy, let's go before you rip each other's clothes off," she said and even Fenris blushed lightly at that one. Her face took on a speculative look for a moment. "Now _there's _an image. Mmmmmm…" She dragged a sputtering Anders outside, leaving a grinning Varric and bemused Fenris behind.

"A round at the Hanged Man says I find them clothes-less under the moon later?"? Varric offered.

Fenris grimaced. Before he could say anything, though, Hawke cracked one bleary eye and raised her head a fraction, looking around for Anders' lost heat at her side. Her eyes lit upon Fenris and she practically slithered into his lap, stretching out her legs and making a contented sound as she settled her cheek against his leg and hip. She was asleep again before her third breath after she had loosely wrapped her arms around his waist.

For his part, Fenris looked more than a little uncomfortable but he didn't hiss or push her away as he would have done three years previously. His features softened a little and he lightly touched her sandy, brown hair. Varric, at least, had the good sense to appear preoccupied with settling Bianca next to him even as he took careful mental notes for the latest story he was composing about a fallen noble and her unlikely lover.

Varric and Merrill were the next to take watch and despite his attempted bet with a certain surly elf just hours before, Anders and Isabela traded places with them still fully clothed. Anders didn't do more than stop and study how Hawke had managed to wrap herself around Fenris before he replenished the wood for the fire and settled down for the night. Isabela, for her part, simply smiled at the sight that the pair of them made.

"You're never going to let them live this down, are you, Rivani?" Varric asked as he helped Merrill extract herself from the boy's arms and settle him beside Anders.

"Oh, I don't know. They are adorable like that," Isabela said with another smile. "I think I'll keep it as blackmail for the next time Hawke tries to drag me out of the Rose."

The second shift was uneventful except for the few owls that Merrill decided to try and attract down to her. Varric greatly entertained himself that night by practicing with Bianca to take out the owls as they attempted to vandalize Merrill's hair.

When Varric gently shook Hawke awake, she blinked blearily at him and then tried to bury her face back into her nice warm pillow that smelled like…_Fenris_? Said pillow grunted and a very familiar, _clawed_ hand touched her shoulder. Her face already growing hot with embarrassment, she lifted her head from the crook of his hip and looked him in the eye.

His discomfort had long since faded through the night and he found some amusement in the hot blush that stained her cheeks. "I can take over the third watch myself if you would prefer to sleep a little more. You did deplete yourself quite thoroughly yesterday," he said by way of impasse.

Hawke sat up, careful not to brush his skin. "Ah, no, I…I'll be fine."

Varric turned to Merrill and commented, "It's just like that evening two days ago I was telling you about. Waaaaay awkward and they weren't even doing anything this time around."

"What?" Merrill asked, combing her fingers through her hair. "Hawke was sleeping on Fenris until a few minutes ago and yesterday we were all together and fighting the slavers to get the little boy back." Her eyes slid to the little boy curled up to Anders' sprawled out form and she smiled fondly. And just like that, her thoughts shifted to a new topic. "Well, aren't they just the cutest little pair. You know, if his hair was just a shade lighter, they could be father and son. Well, the little one wouldn't be host for a spirit, but he almost was. Does that count? Oh, Varric, what was it that you were talking about?"

He sighed as the pair in question slipped outside to take their positions. "Nothing important, Daisy. Get some sleep and we'll be off come morning."

Free of the cave and its occupants, Fenris and Hawke settled back to back outside the cave. The slight contact of their skin brushing at the close proximity sent her thoughts spiraling back to a moment before and the night before last. It was easier, she reflected, not to have to look at him while memories of how his hand had felt on her breast and how _good_ it had felt when their tongues had entwined floated through her mind. Hawke couldn't help but wonder how far they would have gone that night if Varric hadn't shown up with news of a new job and smirked at them.

With her thoughts so firmly planted on those memories, she suddenly couldn't help but also wonder about the ways in which he would have made her scream. Stealing a glance at him and observing the ridged set of his shoulders left her with little doubt that he would have been the dominant partner that night and would have had her pinned beneath him with his hands…

"Hawke," Fenris said and she was startled out of her little fantasy. She took longer than necessary to turn her head to look at him and still failed horribly at gaining control of the heat pooling in her stomach and the blush clearly visible in the dim lighting of the moon.

Waking up half draped across his lap with her legs curled around his knees had felt…nice, but he had never allowed anyone so close to him. He had always been so careful to maintain a safe distance from everyone, including her and she was, by far, the person that he was closest to in their motley band of misfits. To have so casually disregarded that had to have seemed invasive and presumptuous of her to assume that just because they had kissed once she could curl up on him whenever she wanted. Granted, she had been asleep when she had done so but that was beside the point.

She drew breath to apologize, but Fenris spoke first. "You and I are friends, are we not?" he asked.

She blinked once, twice, three times in confusion. Of all the turns that she had imagined that he might take, she had not thought that he would pose such a question. In her continued silence, a light blush stained his features before he turned his head away. "Forget I asked," he murmured.

"Of course we're friends, Fenris. I'm sorry, you just…you caught me off guard. Was there…something specific that you wished to discuss?" she offered, turning her head away again.

"I…have never allowed anyone too close. When my markings were created, the pain was extraordinary and the memory lingers, but you are unlike any woman I have ever met," he said softly and a different kind of heat rippled through her and settled any lustful longings she had been harboring before that moment. "With you…it is…easy…to imagine that this is what friendship is supposed to be like."

She settled her back against his and leaned her head back until she touched the hilt of his broad. They remained tensed for a moment, each waiting for the other to withdraw, before they relaxed and Hawke asked, "You mean…you've never…not even after you escaped?"

"If there was someone before…I have no memory of it," he admitted and she felt him sigh. "I stayed nowhere for long. Who could I have trusted?" He hesitated and Hawke waited, barely remembering to draw enough breath into her lungs to stay conscious. "I didn't think I needed anyone. Or wanted anyone. Until now."

Hawke rotated her position until she sat with her hip pressed against his back. She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around his. His fingers wrapped tightly around hers before he turned his head to study her from beneath his fringe of silver hair. Her features softened into a warm smile as she said, "Then I am glad that you stayed and allowed me a chance to get to know you."

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed her fingers to his lips while he maintained eye contact. She exhaled sharply at the contact and forgot how to breathe under the way he was looking at her with a mixture of tenderness and something darker that set her stomach to fluttering. A half smile flitted about his lips while he seemed to war with himself. "You are the first person that I have ever trusted to be this close and yet I find that have no wish to lose your friendship even as I desire more from your companionship."

"Fenris," she breathed and he turned his body until his thigh was pressed alongside hers.

Cupping his free hand around her cheek, he leaned close and stopped a fraction short of kissing her. His breath was hot on her lips and the look in his eyes burned her to the core. Her hand snaked into his hair and she kissed him with a savageness that bruised her lips. He allowed her to retain the briefest moment of control over the kiss before he took it from her and deepened the kiss, his claw fisting in her hair and pulling her head back to give him better access.

She shifted to her knees and pressed closer to him, but Fenris simply smirked against her mouth and drew back a fraction. A hiss of frustration left her swollen lips and though she tried to tug him back into the kiss, he resisted. "You are a beautiful woman, Hawke," he breathed. "Is there no one else that has your…attention?"

After another futile moment of trying to fight his greater strength, she sighed in defeat and forced her body to relax against his side. Laying her chin on his shoulder and running her fingers through his hair, she said, "We do not have to stop being friends simply because we desire each other. I've known many people who were friends before they laid together and who were friends after that lust had burned itself out. Sometimes, intimacy is simply a deeper expression of friendship."

Curiosity settled over his features. "Really?" he asked and she laughed.

With her free hand, she motioned between their bodies. "This may be nothing more than a surface deep attraction that burns itself after one night. Friends *are* allowed to look at one another as potential lovers that might be willing to take nothing more from the act than the physical satisfaction of release without complicating matters. Some of the people I knew had several lovers and though not all of them ended well, there were several that all burned themselves out and settled back into simple friendship as though nothing had ever happened between them at all."

His lips ghosted over hers again. "And you believe that this is something that could…occur…between us?" he asked.

"Yes, Fenris," she answered, amusement lacing her tone. Almost playfully, she added, "And I promise not to get jealous if you suddenly develop interest in another person or become involved with someone else as well."

He kissed her again and then gently disentangled himself from her. "You have raised an…interesting point," he said with a small smile. "I will…have to consider it." Then, his hand closed around the hilt of his broadsword sitting next to them and he rose, strapping it to his back as he did so. He melted into the night to check the area surrounding them, leaving behind him a rather flushed and flustered Hawke.


	2. Chapter 2

Merrill declared the boy mostly blood magic free the next morning and informed them that so long as they kept an eye on him for the next week or so for demonic possession, he would be fine at the end of it. Camp was summarily disassembled, the loot was stored, and everything else unnecessary was quickly burnt by the three mages to hide their trail in case anyone was hunting them.

As the ashes were being scattered, Isabela sidled up beside Hawke and asked, "So, what went down last night? Between you and Fenris, that is?" When she got a blank look in return, she sighed and explained, "You've been avoiding each other all morning where the two of you normally work together. It would be rather nauseating if you weren't such an effective pair. So, did you do the deed? Seal the deal? Ride the bronto?"

That last one finally caused Hawke to blush and sputter indignantly. Isabela merely smiled as she slipped out of easy fireball range, reflecting that it was, indeed, very easy to get a rise out of their *fearless* leader when it came to her sex life.

Upon setting out, Fenris found himself walking alongside Varric. Which, he realized, must have been the dwarf's intention. The dwarf never did anything without a purpose. He glanced ahead of them at Hawke and, for a moment, contemplated lengthening his stride to catch up with her, but last night…A light blush stained his face for another moment before he gained control over his memories. Besides, the abomination was speaking with her and he had no wish to be drawn into a debate with it that would ultimately fall to her to smooth over.

"You know," Varric said in an offhand manner that made Fenris immediately wary. "Hawke is a beautiful woman." *That* made him almost growl, but he was not an animal and Hawke was not his to defend like that, he reminded himself. "Just a friendly piece of advice, but if you don't move along soon, Blondie there will make a move on her." Then, Varric fell back to walk with Isabela where they immediately began whispering.

For a moment, Fenris contemplated simply attacking the abomination. It would have made things so much easier and life would be a lot simpler without having to watch him every second of the day they spent together. His eyes flicked to Hawke and he felt the desire to kill drain out of him. Hawke would never let the abomination die without defending him. It would take something far more extreme than their hatred of each other to convince her to kill him.

As it was, Anders and Hawke were involved in a rather pointed and heated discussion about the mage child they had rescued. "His parents hired us to find and rescue him. They have to be willing to do more than that," he said.

"And who's to say that once they find out that their boy was *almost* possessed by a demon they won't turn on him like…" her voice trailed off and she looked ahead. "Look, there is no telling that they'll want him back after they find out he was controlled by blood magic. His best bet might actually be with the Circle until he's older."

A scowl settled over his features. "Who's to say they won't already have a plan in place?" he asked.

She stopped and looked at him. He paused at her side and stubbornly met her gaze. "What-" she began and then shook her head. "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. If you can convince them that their son is no danger to them then I have no objection to their taking him back. If, however, they freak out upon finding out that there is still a chance he could be under the influence of blood magic then he goes to the Circle when he's entirely free of it at the weeks end."

"A chance is all I'm asking for," he said, a smile softening his scowl, but she was already moving again.

They reached the city by nightfall relatively unharmed from their scrape with bandits and another group of slavers. Upon entering the city, Varric suggested they meet in the residential district of Lowtown and vanished to retrieve the boy's parents. When they got there, it was deserted save for a single inhabitant that quickly scampered off at the sight of five armored individuals and a child.

Hawke realized a little uncomfortably that they were sticking out. "Isa," she said quietly, scanning the streets. "Fenris, Merrill, why don't you three head off. Anders and I can handle any ruffians that happen along between now and when Varric arrives." When they looked to protest, she fixed them with a glare and said, "It is far easier for two robed individuals to blend into the shadows than it is for five individuals to remain unnoticed."

"But I can-" Isabela began but she huffed out an aggravated breath when Hawke simply glared at her. "Fine, but if your stupid ass gets captured, don't expect me to save you without saying 'I told you so' a good dozen times." Then, she slipped into the stealth of being a rogue and made her way back to the Hanged Man.

Fenris simply stared at her for a moment longer, before he silently backed into the shadows and vanished, leaving the mages blinking in surprise. "I didn't know he could do that. Did you know he could do that, Hawke?" Merrill asked.

Hawke sighed and Merrill grinned sheepishly before turning her attention to the child still clinging to her hand. Kneeling beside him, she murmured her goodbyes before embracing him and handing him off to Hawke, whom he clung to like a lifeline. Gently petting his hair one last time, she smiled sadly and said, "If you've no place else to go, little one, come find me in the alienage and we can go a wandering like my clan. We'd have a wonderful time of it, too."

Her eyebrows rose in shock, but before she could so much as comment, Merrill waved cheerfully to them one last time and set off towards her home. Anders chuckled ruefully, still staring at the spot she had turned the corner. "Well, there's an interesting thought. Merrill as a mother?"

Something about his tone made her bristle and though he was her friends as well, she snapped, "She'd make a wonderful mother."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Minus the whole 'I made a deal with a demon to fix a giant mirror,' sure, why not."

The boy stared at them with wide, blue eyes and Hawke sighed. "She's not evil and she would never let something possess her," she said soothingly and the boy nodded.

They waited in silence for a good twenty minutes before they heard the jingle of armor. Glancing over their shoulders, she saw some of Aveline's guardsmen on patrol. They nodded to each other and Hawke and Anders moved deeper into the shadows to remain a little more inconspicuous while the guards silently continued on their patrol. "You wouldn't really send him to the Circle, would you?" Anders asked casually and Hawke repressed another sigh.

They'd had the same argument at least a good hundred times since they had met three years previously. Smoothing a hand against his head, she looked at the boy and considered her answer. "I can't take care of him without raising suspicion. You can't take him in and guarantee that he'll be safe. We can't turn him lose on the streets with a few coins and hope he'll survive just like you can't send him off to live with some strangers who knows they'll do to him once they have him to themselves. The Dalish won't take him because he's human and the Chantry would send him to the Circle anyways. Sometimes, the Circle is the last and only option that someone has. It's not a perfect system, but it's better than always being on the run for one as young as he is. If it can be avoided, then I say, yes, let's seek that option out, but I will not abandon him to an unknown fate."

For once, he didn't have a response to that and they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. It was, at best, a stalemate she knew wouldn't last and as much as she cared for him she wasn't sure what she would do to him the next time he tried to choke her with his view that "all mages should be free." Thankfully, Varric's soft voice made his presence known before they even saw him.

"-and the demon was twice as tall as we are. It tried to grab her but she remained as calm as anything-" he was saying. Her ears burned as she realized that he was embellishing their latest trip, but when he came into view with a male and female following him she swallowed any remarks she had on the subject when they spotted their little boy and rushed forward. The boy released her with a glad cry and threw himself into their arms.

She and Anders moved a little out of the way at the reunion and watched instead for any sign of the gangs that might be stalking the streets these days. After a few moments, the mother disentangled herself from her boy and approached her. "Thank you, Serah Hawke. We owe you everything," she whispered gratefully.

Hawke managed to stutter something between "I had help" and "It was no problem" before the woman gave her another smile and then returned to her family. Coin exchanged hands and Varric frowned at the amount, pressing more than half back into their hands and easily sliding past their stammered thanks.

The father glanced at Anders and they exchanged a brief nod that Hawke willed herself to *not* think about too hard. She knew he was part of something underground with the mages, but she had no desire to know any more than that unless he wished to tell her of it. Anything beyond that, well…she'd helped him out of more than one scrape along the way and she was willing to do it again provided he hadn't done anything too incredibly insane.

After that, it was just the three of them standing in the Residential District of Lowtown. Anders was the first to excuse himself with nothing more than a nod and a murmur about checking up on his patients. Hawke and Varric eyed each other for a long moment before the dwarf simply shrugged and handed her the money pouch. "Divide this up how you see fit," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned. "They can't come complaining to me if they don't like their share if it's you that hands out the shares," he said, shrugging Bianca back over his shoulder. "Besides, they all like you too much to believe for even a second you'd even think about cheating us out of our fairly earned coin."

"Right, and you would have absolutely nothing to gain from spinning tales about me?" she returned and his smile simply widened.

"Good night, Hawke, and try not to stay out too late with certain broody elves," he said with a wink before he turned and walked away.

Hawke flushed but otherwise managed to ignore the comment as she started on her way back home as well, tucking the pouch into her inner robe for safe keeping. Most nights, she only needed the company of her mabari and her reputation to ensure that she was left alone by the gangs that prowled Kirkwall, but that night was different. There was something restless to the night air and she was more than happy to see the familiar shape of Fenris silently emerge from the shadows to fall into step beside her.

It was a comfortable silence that they walked in and any shadows that might have been following her melted away upon registering the presence of a mage and a skilled warrior. They said nothing until they reached her Hightown manor and paused.

Hawke glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, suddenly very aware that every light in the house was out and that her mother, Bodhan, and Sandal were all asleep. Fenris shifted his weight slightly and considered her. They stayed that way for a moment before he began, "I should-"

Right about the same time Hawke said, "Mother will be worried."

They paused and she grinned at him and he looked away, smiling slightly as well. "Well, this is awkward," she remarked and shook her head. "Look, Varric gave me the earnings for our little outing and I'm going to divide it up tomorrow. Shall I stop by and give you your cut sometime tomorrow evening?"

He paused and considered it. She was giving him a chance to walk away. "Then, I shall see you tomorrow," he said, his voice dropping in pitch. "Goodnight, Hawke."

She stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where he had been, and attempting to control the butterflies that had arisen in her. Blinking a couple of times, she shook her head and opened the door. Tomorrow wouldn't come soon enough in her opinion.

If anyone noticed her acting strangely the next day when she gave them their cut, they were kind enough not to mention it to her, but that didn't stop them from talking to each other. It also didn't go amiss that both Fenris and Hawke were missing from that nights round of Wicked Grace.

Hawke had finally given up on fidgeting with her appearance after an hour of looking at and discarding all of her clothes. It wasn't like she was going on a date, she reminded herself, but that still did nothing to cool the nervousness she felt rising when she approached Fenris' mansion and saw that one of the windows flickered with firelight.

She let herself in and made her way up the stairs to where she usually found him in his room. The room itself was in no way different from its usual decorum, he was nowhere to be found. Approaching the table, she pulled the money pouch out and set it on the wooden surface. As she released the bag, she felt a shiver run up her spine. Turning her head slightly, she caught sight of Fenris standing in the doorway, holding an unopened bottle of the Aggressio.

Her stomach twisted nervously at his silence so she smiled and said, "Hi."

An answering smile flitted across his lips as he entered the room and sat down before the fire, motioning for Hawke to do the same. She sat on one of the benches and leaned one her elbows on her knees so that she could rest her chin in the palm of her hand. He opened the bottle and offered it to her.

"I started last time," she protested. "Your turn."

"Ah, yes, but I seem to recall sharing first the three times before that," he remarked.

"Damn," she said, accepting the bottle and taking a swig. "Alright, I convinced Beth to set a Templar on fire back in Lothering and made it look like an accident. Father wouldn't let us out of the house for close to a month." A sad smile twisted her lips as she handed the bottle back.

"When I was with the Fog Warriors, one of the females took an interest in me and every attempt I made to dissuade her was taken as an indication that her attentions were welcome. I finally challenged her to a fight and requested that she back off as my prize for winning," Fenris returned, taking a drink and offering the wine back to her.

Hawke rolled the bottle between her palms and considered him. For all intents and purposes, he looked to be very much at ease with their trading of painless anecdotes from their pasts, but she was not. It was hard to forget the feeling of his armored hands raking through her hair to pull her closer. Setting the bottle aside, she asked, "May I kiss you?"

It took all her willpower not to blush and try to melt into the bench she sat on while he studied her with an unreadable look. Finally, he rose to his feet and it was though his muscles were uncoiling. Desire boiled in her veins as he closed the distance between them and leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. She rose and hooked her arm around his neck, pulling him closer and flattening her breasts and stomach against his chest plate.

His hands ghosted down her sides to rest on her hips, but he didn't let them linger long before he unfastened the belt of her robe and pushed it back to hang off her shoulders. Deft fingers unlaced the fastenings of her under armor and tugged the material apart to slide one clawed hand inside to gently cup her breast. The cold metal contrasted with the heat of her skin so sharply that she broke away from the kiss, tilted her head back, and gasped at the sensation. Flicking his thumb over her peaked nipple, he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and traced a trail of fire to her rapid pulse with teeth and tongue where he could taste her heartbeat. Then, he kissed her again and slid his tongue past her lips to entwine with hers.

He moved back just enough to make her moan at the loss of contact and she followed him without breaking the kiss as he slowly backed into a sitting position. She moved with him, eager fingers flying across his chest plate and fumbling with his clasps as she followed him down to straddle his hips before the fire with her open robe hanging off her shoulders.

*Snick!*

They startled apart and both glanced at the door at the sound and then grinned at each other when they realized that it had only been the last of his chest plate clasps coming undone. He shed the plate and she sat back on her heels to examine the lyrium markings that twined down his chest in intricate patterns before disappearing under the leather material of his breeches. He reclined back on his elbows to watch her take in the sight of him with a closed expression, as though he were waiting for rejection.

She bit her lip and reached a hand between them to touch one of the markings, but she hesitated and glanced at him. "May I?" she whispered breathlessly.

A slight smirk tugged at his lips as he nodded and laced his fingers with hers to show her exactly how much pressure to apply without hurting him. She mimicked his movements and the lyrium reacted to her touch and swirled to the surface of his skin to glow slightly and send sensations through him that had him dropping his head back and biting off a moan. He released her hand and she continued to trace every groove and defined muscle the markings dipped into, watching in fascination as they reacted.

"They're beautiful," she said.

A chuckle vibrated between them and sent more heat spiraling to her core as he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Coming from you, Hawke," he rumbled, "that means a great deal."

He tugged her down onto his chest where he claimed her lips in another searing kiss while he worked her robe off and tossed it hazardously close to the fire before he smoothed his hands down her back to settle his hands on her buttocks. Giving a gentle squeeze made her inhale sharply and buck her hips forward to brush against the hard bulge of his erection, earning her a hiss from his lips.

Wrapping one arm around her waist and the other around the base of her skull, he rolled them over in one fluid move that settled him between her thighs with her legs wrapped loosely around his waist. One hand trailed up her side to continue working at the lacings of her under armor until they were completely free on one side and he could slide one clawed hand inside to trace the planes of her stomach. She bit back a moan at the sensation.

Freeing his other hand, he worked at the other side of her lacings until he could slide the chest piece off and throw it next to her robe. "Fenris," she breathed, tilting her head back and arching her back in invitation.

He broke the kiss and pulled back a little so that he could tug her breast band off and see her cleavage unhindered. Lowering his head, he flicked his tongue across the hardening peak of her breast, glancing up at her to observe her eyes flutter closed. She gasped when his teeth grazed her nipple and his hand closed around her neglected breast as he laved the other with attention. Pools of desire raced through her, setting her blood on fire and making it difficult to breath. She fisted her hands in his hair and arched into his touch.

After a moment, he kissed the valley between her breasts and nipped a path down her stomach and soothed the little bites with a swirl of his tongue, exploring every inch of her exposed skin until she was squirming beneath him and panting his name like it was part of the chant. Planting a final kiss on her hip, he sat back and undid the clasps to his gauntlets while her fingers traced the markings on his chest again until she reached the waistband of his breeches and she gave an impatient tug.

He wrapped his free hand around one of her wrists and stilled her eager fingers. "Patience, Hawke," he rumbled when he had her attention.

She huffed in frustration, but dropped her hands to her chest to fill the sudden ache the absence of his touch had left her with. He watched her for a moment, running her fingers over her exposed skin and feeling himself harden a little more before he finished removing the other gauntlet. Then, he stripped her of her breeches and removed his own so that there was nothing but their smalls between skin on skin and those didn't last long at all.

They paused for a moment to take in the full, naked form of the other and Hawke unconsciously licked her lips when her eyes finally stopped at his full erection. She glanced back up at him with a small smile. "Well, that's…you're impressive," she managed.

Fenris simply leaned over her again and claimed her lips in another kiss that made her forget how to breathe. His hand brushed over her nipple, tweaking the bud and making her gasp against his mouth, before trailing down her stomach to brush against her sex. She bucked against the light touch. He repeated the motion and then dipped one finger into her folds, smiling when he found her wet and wanting.

"Eager, are we?" he whispered, sliding his finger into her to the first knuckle. She pushed her hips up to meet his hand, but he pulled back a little, making her moan in frustration. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself and parted her legs for him.

Fenris rotated his thumb over her clit and slid another finger in to join the first before thrusting them in and out. Hawke moaned his name and bucked her hips in an attempt to meet the pace he was setting, but he stilled her motions with his other hand. When she began to tighten around his fingers and her moans reached a fevered pitch, he pulled his fingers out and positioned himself. He leaned in, bending his head to take her nipple in his mouth, and her breath caught at the feel of his warm lips and tongue on her, taking her in. They were both breathing faster, the movement of his hips becoming more insistent, her soft cries and his muffled moans filling the silence. She fisted one hand in his hair and splayed the other across his back, urging him on. He shifted, then, mouth leaving her breast as he moved the head of his cock to her tight, wet entrance, pushing slowly but insistently, both of them crying out at the sensation as he filled her, rocking back and forth until he was fully seated inside her.

There were no words, then, as he held her tight, leaning her back as he increased the pace, short, quick thrusts that made her whimper. "Fenris," she gasped. There were no words to describe the feeling of him, so hard inside, rocking against her, building a heat and pressure that threatened to consume her. He slowed, then, and sat back slightly on his heels, and she watched, dazed, as he put his thumb to his lips, licking it, eyes on hers, before moving to rub her at the joining of their bodies. Her eyes fluttered shut and she was lost in pleasure as he stroked his callused thumb over her nub in time with his thrusts. "Fenris," she gasped, arching against him as he coaxed more pleasure from her. He picked up the pace, then, the desperation hitching in her voice as she constricted around him making his own body begin to tighten. He felt it then, the moment she began to crest, crying out as she vised around him, so tight and hot and wet, and he moved to cover her body with his own, cradling her head in his hands, pounding harder, faster as his own pleasure found him, his deep cries blending with hers as they rode out the waves of their release together.

Sated, they collapsed together in a boneless heap. They stayed like that for a long moment and she nuzzled his shoulder, rubbing at his back as she did so. He grunted and eased out of her until he could flip onto his back beside her. They considered each other before she rolled onto her stomach and nestled her head against his shoulder, tracing the markings on his stomach.

"That was…" he began, but stopped when words failed him.

"Mmm…" she supplied. "We might have to do that again sometime. Preferably in a bed."

She glanced at him from beneath dark eye lashes and a chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest. "And perhaps more than once more," he agreed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her tight against his chest so that he could bury his nose in her hair. "If you're willing?" he added uncertainly.

It was her turn to laugh. "Of course I'm willing, but right now, I think sleep is in order," she murmured.

"Mmm…" he agreed and, together, they drifted off into a fitful doze before the fire.

Dawn rose bright and clear, banishing any traces of the lingering darkness that the night had brought. Hawke stirred in the cold air and pressed her nose closer to the familiar scent of Fenris, sighing happily when the memories of the previous night trickled slowly back. They'd slept together, it had been good, and there had been the tentative discussion of it happening again.

Lifting her chin to look at him, she grinned at the emerald gaze that watched her. "The fire went out," he remarked and she blinked.

What did…? Her heart skipped a beat and some of the warmth drained from her body as the implications registered. Did he really mean…?

His eyes slid to the fireplace and she felt a blush starting to creep up the back of her neck. Oh. That's why the room was rather cool. He hadn't meant it as anything other than a statement of fact and she'd been getting herself twisted into a knot over nothing then. Well…how silly of her.

With his arm still loosely wrapped around her waist, she couldn't seem to dredge up the urge to move or do anything that would require her to leave the warm cradle of his body. She studied the fireplace as well. "So it is," she returned. "There also isn't any wood left so conjuring fire would be a waste of energy." He didn't even flinch at the casual reminder that she was a mage and she felt a different kind of satisfaction thrum through her. They'd been working on reaching a middle ground for a number of months by that point and it was good to know they had succeeded to a certain degree.

She wedged a foot under his knee and watched his reaction from beneath dark eyelashes. He glanced at her, a curious expression registering on his face. She grinned in return and lifted herself into her elbow to lean down and kiss him without any real urgency. "Morning," she said when she broke away.

"Indeed," he laughed and they stared at each other for a long moment.

Hawke was the first to move, reluctantly breaking away and rising to her feet. There were other things to be doing than lying about all day, even if it felt good to lounge about in her lover's arms. The thought made her grin stupidly. Her lover. Fenris was her lover. Well, it wasn't as though they'd been flirting for the last three years and working their way towards that point and it wasn't like anything had really changed. Right?

She was beginning to process the question as she reached for her smalls when strong fingers gripped her hips and slid up the planes of her stomach to cup her breasts, pulling her back against a muscular chest. His teeth nipped lightly at the rim of her ear as he chuckled. "There is a bed and a promise I believe we made last night. If you're willing?" he asked, one hand drifting slowly down her stomach to trace her hip bone.

Her breathing hitched slightly when his hand slid around her thigh and one finger curled up to brush the slit of her entrance. She wound one of her hands around the back of his neck and leaned her head back. "Yes," she breathed, thrusting to meet his fingers as he sank two into her.

How she wound up kneeling in the middle of the bed with him thrusting into her from behind, driving her towards that blissful edge, holding her there, and then driving her screaming over was something she would never quite understand nor care to attempt to piece together. All that mattered was that she felt satisfied again and sore in a good way. It was almost a shame when he decided that they did, indeed, have other things that needed to be done that day, not least of which was attending to the meeting with the Viscount on some important matter or another.

The Qunari were a proud race of fierce warriors whose dedication and focus quietly earned her respect, but that respect was sorely tested when the Arishok sent her after the creeping mist. After that, when the Viscount asked for her help in finding the missing Qunari delegates, she almost refused and at the end, when she found them, she was glad that she hadn't refused. Zealotry was not the way to get things done, it only led to more bloodshed and the loss of innocent lives.

The aftermath left the people of Kirkwall reeling with fear and whispers of war, but Hawke balanced peace as best she could. Days passed and the Qunari made no move of aggression and the people began to relax again as a week turned to two and the "heretical giants" remained their ever watchful selves. As a third week came to pass, the city turned their attention from the Qunari and distracted themselves with gossip about the return of the Amell family and its scion.

Some rumors pegged her as a woman that had earned her families place back through a trade of "favors" and blackmail. Others painted her as a woman on her rise to power to protect those that could not do it for themselves. Still others reflected on a darker side of her nature and warped some of the things she had done to pain her as a blood mage or worse. The one thing they all had in common was the fact that a silver haired elven warrior rarely left her side.

Hawke ignored the rumors, the skeptical glances, the curious whispers and continued on with her life. Fenris, as always, remained a shadow to the city of Kirkwall and remained impervious to their gossip. Within their group, however, the dynamics shifted a little as everyone realized what was going on between their leader and the warrior. Anders avoided the pair like the plague unless Hawke physically dragged him out of his clinic for a job. Merrill thought it cute. Aveline remained silent on the matter, but kept a closer eye on the pair of them and tried a little harder to make sure that Fenris went unseen by the Viscount office. Isabela and Varric continued their relentless, light teasing and insinuations and Hawke and Fenris continued to deflect and ignore.

The relationship between Fenris and Hawke shifted only slightly. They continued to meet after every job they did together, for Fenris' weekly reading lessons, and whenever the fancy struck them to visit each other, which, with their newly acquired set of activities, was at least every other day. Most of the time, those visits between them found them in an exhausted, sated, sweaty tangle of limbs. Afterward, when they were satisfied, Hawke would curl up against him and he would loop an arm around her waist or stomach and they would drift together for a few hours before they parted ways.

Over the weeks that followed, they continued to have casual sex and Isabela noted with interest that Fenris was less broody and that he engaged more with them when they played Wicked Grace in a less hostile manner, especially towards Merrill. Even Aveline commented on his being less prickly. With Anders, they remained as hostile as ever towards each other.

Hawke nearly swallowed her tongue when she heard some of the tamer things Isabela was saying to Fenris and how Fenris was guardedly responding. She tried not to get jealous, she really did, and she pretended not to notice every time Isabela "accidentally" brushed against the elven warrior and she pretended to be absorbed in something else every time Fenris would glance at her on those occasions, but it was harder to ignore when Isabela looked like a smug cat and Fenris smelled like the pirate. After the first time she went to see Fenris and he sported a bite she hadn't made, she took off like a spurned lover and disappeared into Darktown where she spent time with Anders and helped him to wade through his sea of patients.

With two skilled healers to patch up the people that came to him, Anders finished earlier than he ever had and over the course of a week, Hawke and Anders began to patch up the friendship they had neglected to maintain for a long while. They spoke of topics that didn't hurt and avoided anything that had to do with Fenris. Small things began to make better sense to her and when he accidentally brushed against her a second time that evening, it finally clicked into place that he cared for her beyond friendship.

Looking at him with new eyes, she watched as he finished sewing together a woman's badly split lip and watched him smile and gently reassure her as he cleaned the blood off her face and off his hands. Anders really was a decent sort of man that she might have, at one point, fallen in love with if not for…She sighed and rubbed her neck. Well, wasn't this quite the conundrum. She had fallen in love with Fenris without even realizing what was happening and it had taken Anders to figure it out.

When he walked her to the edge of Darktown that evening, he gave her a curious look and paused just short of the entrance to Lowtown. Rubbing a hand across his shoulder, he sighed and said, "You don't have to keep doing this, Hawke."

She stopped and looked back at him. "Doing what?" she asked.

"Avoiding Fenris," he said, biting the name off bitterly. "I know you and he are practically joined at the hip when it comes to fighting and life outside of it. I also know the looks Isabela has been throwing him these past few days and that you missed the weekly gathering of Wicked Grace. You. Are. Avoiding. Him. And using me to get away with it." His tone took a bitter edge at the end and he turned his face away.

Hawke felt a slow flush creeping up the back of her neck. It was true that it had started out that way, but it had changed after the second day when they actually began talking about the different uses and specializations of magic. It had been…*nice*…to be able to talk to another mage and compare notes without worrying about whether or not they would go to the Templars telling tales and it had been nice not to have to worry about prying eyes or shrieking passer-by when they had demonstrated different spells. He was easy to be around and that was something she had come to

She spun on her heel and engulfed him in a tight hug and then released him before he had a chance to react. "I value your friendship more than you seem to think, Anders. This week may have started with avoiding him, but I stayed and continued on because I enjoy spending time with you."

Something like a cross between heartache and hope flashed across his face before he nodded and said, "Then I'll probably see you tomorrow," he said lightly before he turned heel and walked briskly back into the darkness of Darktown. Hawke watched him go, feeling her heart wrench, but knowing it was for the best that she had killed something before it had started. One glowing, broody male was enough for her and she still had to patch up whatever damage her week absence had done.

Sighing and turning around again, she walked towards Hightown once more. Anders was right. Of course he was. It was time to stop avoiding him. She would see him tomorrow, after everything was done and settled.

Fenris, however, had a different idea and was waiting for her when she got home. He didn't look pleased, but he also wasn't glowing. When he moved towards her out of the shadows it was very much like his muscles were coiled in preparation to pounce.

Hawke stopped just short of entering her house and waited for him, suddenly wary. "Fenris," she said by way of greeting.

"Hawke," he returned. "You've been avoiding me."

Well, that was blunt, though she couldn't say that surprised her. Rubbing a hand across her neck, she studied him. "Yes, I have," she admitted. "Would you like to come in and I can explain inside?"

He nodded slightly and followed her inside to the library where she paused before the fire where she fed the flames a little. Fenris stopped just inside of the doorway and leaned against the frame. When she remained silent a moment longer he asked, "Well?"

Hawke glanced at him over her shoulder, a riot of emotions playing across her features until they settled into a look of chagrin. "Remember how I promised I wouldn't get jealous?" she asked. His features remained impassive. "Well, I guess I lied because when you smelled like Isabela and had bites that weren't mine…well, it was kinda hard not to be so I avoided you while I sorted through that."

His feet scuffed lightly against the stone flooring before he was standing behind her in the flickering firelight. "Are you…still jealous?" he asked.

The look that she gave him was rather flat. "I'll live," she shrugged.

Fenris smirked, leaned down, planted a kiss on her neck, and whispered, "I am yours. Isabela was a onetime fling I have no interest in returning to so long as you are willing to have me."

Her heart skipped a beat and she turned entirely to face him. His closeness made it even harder to breath, but she had to say it, had to make it known. "I am not Danarius. You are your own person and I w-mmph!"

He silenced her with a kiss that she relaxed into after a moment, sliding her hands up to rest on his shoulders. When he drew back to breath, he leaned his forehead against hers and said, "I know. I've always known this. You are unlike *anyone* I have ever known. This last week, knowing that I had earned your ire somehow, was uncomfortable." He kissed her again, softer this time, and when he drew back his eyes were searching. "I quite enjoy your company in any form and I appreciate your friendship. To have your ire in some way is…unsettling as it could mean that you no longer wish my friendship."

The mere thought of shutting him out of her life the way he was implying made her heart wrench and she kissed him, hard and fierce. Later, lying there with her ensconced in his arms, running his fingers over her arm, and simply holding her sleeping form, he realized he could be content with any life if only she were a part of it.

They continued on with a semi-peaceful existence for another few weeks until Aveline asked her to look into Emeric's investigation and the result was that her mother wound up as part of a blood mage's sick, demented attempt to recreate his wife. After killing everything in their path and ultimately slaughtering the blood mage, Hawke cradled her mother while the life drained slowly from her mangled body. Her companions stood back and allowed her the privacy of last, quietly spoken words with her mother.

Hawke sat there for a few moments longer, before she gently tugged a cloak around her mother's body, gathered her into her arms and stood. Her friends followed her to Hightown and then left her to her business to arrange the funeral and tell Gamlen. It wasn't until a week later that they began to worry about her, when neither Fenris nor the rest of the group had seen her. When they tried to check on her, they were rebuffed by a frazzled Bodhan that told them, "She's well, but not wishing to see any visitors today, messeres."

Fenris ignored the dwarf and made his way up the stairs, to her room, and entered without knocking. She was simply sitting and staring into the fire and barely twitched when he said, "I don't know what to say, but I am here."

When she offered only silence in return, he approached her and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his, and studying her face for some flicker of recognition. All he found was dead despair, but she leaned her forehead against his, tightened her hands around his, and closed her eyes while tears began to fall, one-by-one.

He pushed her back onto the bed and stripped her of her boots before curling protectively around her so that she could cling to him with all her remaining strength and sob her heart out. He held her like that the rest of the night and in the morning, she slept without dreaming.

After that, their relationship took a turn that wasn't quite a romantic relationship but also wasn't quite friendship any longer. They spent most of their days together, either reading or simply lying together. Most of the time, Hawke wasn't interested in sex and Fenris wasn't interested in pushing her, so they laid there with the fingers of one hand entwined and the other wrapped around each other. Sometimes, Hawke spoke of the family she had lost-the little brother to the ogre, the little sister to darkspawn taint, the father to a wasting illness, and the mother to the mad blood mage-and other times she simply curled up next to him and wept until she fell asleep. The times when she simply stared into the fire, unmoving and unreachable, were the worst, but little-by-little she began to recover her old personality.

She wasn't the same, exactly. There was a sharpness to her tongue after that that sent most people running, and a new rage that was only seen in battle that sharpened her focus and made her more deadly than ever. Hawke still retained, however, her odd humor, bad jokes, and half-heartedly began making attempts to spend time with her friends after that. Aveline, she helped to build a relationship with Donnic. Merrill, she grudgingly helped with her mirror. Anders, she helped with his odd project. Isabela, she engaged in witty banter with. Varric, she helped to track down and kill his brother. And Fenris, she helped to fight Hadrianna when the ambush came.

It was after Hadrianna was dead that their relationship took another turn.

When Fenris came to her that night to try and apologize, she approached him and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. He looked at her with an unreadable expression as she said, "I understand and it's alright, Fenris."

"You are…generous, more so than most people," he murmured, taken aback.

Closing the distance between them, Hawke kissed him and then drew back with a small smile. "You've been gracious with me these last few weeks since…" she almost choked on the words and decided to bypass them. "You've been gracious with me these last few weeks while I've been less than charitable. It's only fair that I return the favor."

Memories of Hardrianna and Danarius and everything that had ever been done to him welled up and bled over and he tugged her into his chest, wrapped his arms tight around her, and buried his nose in her hair, trying to banish the painful memories with better, more pleasant memories of her. She was, he realized, the rock on which he had begun to build a new life, the very center of the freedom he was trying to capture, and the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

And when he took her that night, with their hands entwined and their breaths coming together, it was gentle and it wasn't slow. It was hard, hungry, and just a touch desperate as they both tried to find some sort of purchase in a world bent on destroying them. After wasn't peaceful, either, as memories of her collided with memories of his life with Danarius and paved a path for older, forgotten, repressed, erased memories to be seen again and, just for a moment, all be within his grasp before the darkness of his mind snapped closed on them again and dragged them back into the guarded depths to leave him more broken and hurting than before and, for the first time in memory, he wept.

In the morning, Hawke reached for him, smiling sleepily, but that smile vanished when her hand met only cold sheets and she snapped upright into a sitting position. Fenris was standing beside the fireplace, fully armored, and with his weapon secured to his back. "Was it that bad?" she asked nervously.

He looked at her, startled out of his thoughts. "No, it was fine," he said and cursed himself when her gaze slid from his. "No, that is insufficient. It was better than anything I could have dreamed of."

Her gaze turned back to his, eyes searching. "But something has changed," she said with a sinking heart. "You're…done with this, then?" She had promised that they would remain friends, but so much had happened and her life had become so entwined with this warrior that she wasn't sure she *wanted* to be "just friends" after everything they had gone through together.

Fenris shook his head and looked down. "Last night, I began to remember. Faces…voices…people…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I cannot…do this. It is too fast, too…much." He began to back away, trying not to register the despair and panic that flashed across her face. Not facing her made it easier. "This should never have happened. I just wanted to be happy, for a little while. Forgive me."

The bed creaked and then her light footsteps sounded before her smaller form crashed into his back and her arms wrapped tight around him. He halted, sudden fear gripping him, but she was careful and she did not make skin to skin contact even with her forehead pressed to his back. "No," she said fiercely. "Do not ask forgiveness where there is none required. You will do what you have to do and there is nothing to forgive for that. All I ask is that you answer one thing for me, Fenris."

He could have broken away, could have continued running, but…she was Hawke and she deserved what little he could give her and more. He nodded briefly and he felt her exhale.

"When I told you that I was jealous of Isabela, do you remember your reply? That's not my question, but I need to know if you remember first," she added quickly and he couldn't help the half smile of amusement that curved his lips before he nodded. *_I am yours.* _Oh, how those words and the promise behind them twisted his heart now. Would she call him out on them when he could not deliver? Would she demand that he make good on his promises? But she only asked, "Do you feel as strongly now as you did then?"

It was like he had reached into his own chest, crushed his heart, and ripped the organ out himself. Anything else would have been easier to answer, but…

"No. It is stronger."

She exhaled and her arms loosened. "Then, go and figure out what you need to and I will still be here if you want me then. Until then-" she swallowed thickly. "Until then, we can be just friends, like it was before. Nothing need have changed."

And then she released him, turned away, and walked back into her room. Fenris looked at her over his shoulder as she picked up her armor and began tending to it. She would wait for him, until he was ready to admit that he wanted her in his life as more than a friend. He walked away and, in leaving, neither found happiness but neither were they heartbroken.


End file.
